


Tragic

by blacklitchick



Category: Richonne - Fandom, The Walking Dead (TV)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-10
Updated: 2016-04-10
Packaged: 2018-06-01 12:20:36
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,940
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6519091
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/blacklitchick/pseuds/blacklitchick
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>AU - A chance meeting has Rick and Michonne questioning the concepts of fate and soul mates.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Tragic

**A/N** : This was written for the Richonne Just Desserts (richonnejustdesserts.tumblr. com ) 3 Simple Ingredients Contest. All of the fics entered were really great so I feel very honored that I won the contest. You should definitely check out the other stories that were entered.

**Title:** Tragic  
 **Word Count:** 3,841  
 **Rating:** T  
 **Summary:** AU - A chance meeting has Rick and Michonne questioning the concepts of fate and soul mates.  
 **List of 3 Ingredients Used:** Doodles, While the music was playing, There were three of them

* * *

Rick's throat burned as the last sip of scotch passed down through his lips. The melting ice cubes in the tumbler clinked together as he lifted the glass to try to get the bartender's attention for another round. Party goers pushed against his back as they vied with him for the attention of the lone guy manning the bar. Figuring all of the pretty girls would get their drinks way before him, he cut his lost and headed towards the dance floor. He ducked and dodged the bodies pressed together as they moved to the sounds of the greatest hits of the eighties. The air was stifling with the heat of so many people together in one room.

His eyes roamed around in search of his date, Karen. He heard the crackling laugh before he saw her in the corner in her pink bridesmaid's dress; happily chatting away with one of her friends whose name he'd already forgotten. Not in the mood for any more small talk he grabbed a bottle of the complimentary club soda on the dessert table and made a dash through the glass doors of the reception hall. The coolness and quiet of the patio made him immediately relax the shoulders he hadn't realized were so tense. He loosened his tie and walked further down the courtyard to where a pool shimmered under the light of the moon.

Rick flopped ungracefully down in one of the lounge chairs. A weary sigh escaped him as he looked at his watch. It was only nine o'clock. Karen told him the reception would probably last well into the night. He rubbed at his temples regretting ever agreeing to be her date to this wedding.

"Was it getting to be too much for you in there too?"

Rick lifted his head and saw that he wasn't alone at the pool. A woman was sitting at the table next to his. The first thing he noticed was how beautiful her dark skin looked against the slinky red dress she wore. Her legs were crossed and she held a glass of white wine. The downright ogling he was doing was in contempt with the gentlemen he prided himself to be. So he lifted his head to her face and felt a jolt of recognition when he looked into her deep, brown eyes. He was sure he'd never seen her before. Her beauty was unforgettable, but there was something familiar about her. She smiled back at him; her eyes boring into his. When his gaze didn't falter she shyly looked down and into her wine goblet.

Realizing he'd been staring too long and didn't answer her question he stammered out a response. "Crowds are...as many people that are in there...not really my thang."

The woman smiled at him again and he felt his heart flutter. "Me neither. That's why I'm hiding out here. Nice to have some company though. Why don't you join me?" She gestured towards the empty chair next to her.

He walked over to her and held out his hand before he sat down. "I'm Rick."

She clutched his hand in a firm handshake. Her skin felt like silk. "Michonne."

"That's a beautiful name," Rick said as settled into the chair.

"I kinda like it myself." She tossed one of her curly dreads over her shoulder and crossed and uncrossed her legs. Rick was intrigued by her mixture of confidence and shyness.

"It fits you very well." He regretted saying that as soon as it left his mouth. It sounded like a line Shane would say to try to pick-up some college co-ed. But when he heard her laugh he couldn't help but smile; loving the crystal clear sound.

"Thank you." She ran her finger around the rim of her wine glass. "It's such a beautiful night. It seemed like such a shame to waste it inside."

Rick looked up at the full moon and the stars sprinkled across the velvet sky. His mind wanted to tell her the night wasn't as beautiful as her, but he swallowed the cheesy pick-up line down. He didn't know what had come over him. "A tragic waste," is all he said instead.

He started when she suddenly reached over to grab his tie. She inspected it closely and then looked up at him with a serious expression on her face. "I'm afraid you have a bit of steak sauce on your tie." Then she smiled and winked at him.

He laughed and looked down at the offending stain. "Guess I was so into the conversation about squash gardening techniques I was having with my table mate that I missed all that sauce dripping from my fork."

"That sounds a lot more interesting then my table mate talking about the latest happenings on The Real Housewives of somewhere or the other. Give me your club soda," she told him.

He handed over the bottle and watched as she poured some on a napkin and gently dabbed at the spot of his tie. "Looks like it's coming out," she said. "That's good since this is such a nice tie. Be a shame if it was ruined."

He watched as her hands expertly made the stain barely visible. "Thanks. My son got it for me last Father's Day."

"He has a good eye. Blue looks good on you."

Rick felt his face get warm at the complement. He focused on the tie hoping his cheeks weren't getting red also.

"So who dragged you here?" she asked when she was done.

Rick leaned back in his chair. "Is it that obvious I'm here against my will?"

"A little bit. I recognize it because it's what I'm feeling too. I'm not really into weddings."

"My date is the sister of the bride."

"Ah so you have to make a good impression. You probably shouldn't be hiding out here then."

"I don't think I'm being missed. Karen is having a good time without me. Who brings you here?"

"My fiancé, Mike, works at the same finance corporation as the groom."

Rick's eyes immediately went to her fingers where he noticed the large diamond ring for the first time. He tried to push down the strong sense of disappointment that came over him.

"So you don't like weddings, but you're going to have one soon?" He tilted his heard towards her finger.

Michonne shrugged, crossed her arms, and leaned back in her own chair. "You don't have to have a wedding to have a marriage. A court house will get you just as married as this shebang."

"Is that your plan?"

Michonne chuckled ruefully and reached for her glass of wine. "No, I'm being talked into having a wedding much bigger than this."

Rick watched her closely and she drank her wine. He noticed how body stiffened at talk of her wedding. "You don't look very happy about that."

"Sometimes what you want is out of your hands." She looked away from him and over to the reception hall where the party was still going strong.

"Hmm. Yeah I know about that."

She looked back over at him. That jolt of recognition pierced through him again as their eyes locked together. "How long have you been divorced?" she asked.

Rick raised an eyebrow at her, and lifted the corner of his mouth up at her observation skills.

"Your ring finger still has a tan line." She answered his silent question.

Rick stretched out his hand to look at the finger in question. "You're very perceptive."

"So I've been told. So how long has it been?"

"Fourteen months."

Michonne rested her chin on her hand and leaned closer to him. "Yet you only recently took off your ring?"

Rick felt himself lean closer to her too. "Guess I had a little hard time letting go."

"Were you still in love with her?"

Rick shook his head. "No. Our marriage needed to end. But we were high school sweethearts. I can hardly remember a time when she wasn't in my life. Hard to give that up because it's not like anything devastating happened. We just grew apart."

Michonne reached forward to trace the outline of the tan line on his finger. He raised his eyes to her face to see if she felt the same charge he did at their touching, but she was avoiding his gaze. She pulled her hand away and subtly rubbed her fingers together. "But isn't that devastating in itself? Losing touch with the person you thought you were going to spend the rest of your life with," she said.

Rick looked down at his finger; missing her touch. "When you put it that way."

"Can I tell you a secret?" she asked

"You can," Rick said more softly then he meant to. They smiled at each other again both looking away at the same time.

Michonne started to play with a small, loose string at the hem of her dress. "I haven't been sleeping much since this ring's been on my finger. The thought of marrying someone I may not recognize ten years from now scares me. Sometimes I feel it's happening to me and Mike already and we haven't even walked down the aisle yet."

"Do you love him?"

"I do." She paused. "I think."

"You think?"

"No, I do. I care about him a great deal. But that soul shattering love? We don't have that. In fact, I don't know anyone who has that. Maybe it doesn't exist."

"And maybe it does," Rick said with conviction. "What if people are too busy settling that we all miss out on it."

Michonne moved a wayward dread behind her ear. "Now that would be a tragedy."

"It would be. Makes me not feel so bad about my divorce now. Maybe I was just making room for the right one to come along."

"Maybe it's Karen."

Rick scoffed and loosened his tie even further. "And maybe it's not." His gaze traveled from her eyes down to her lips that still held a hint of a smile. He couldn't help but to wonder what they would feel like against his. "If you're having all of these doubts why did you say yes?"

Michonne found herself staring at his lips too; wondering if they tasted as good as they looked. She tore her eyes away and shook her head; not knowing what she was doing. "I was never a follower. Always forged my own path. But then I hit my mid-thirties and all my friends were getting married and having babies. People kept asking me when I was going to settle down. That I have such a good man and I should lock him down. Then one night a couple months ago Mike took me to a fancy dinner, got down on one knee, and the "yes" just came out of my mouth. I don't want to hurt him, but I'm not sure if I want this either. Doesn't help that I keep ignoring calls from his mom and sisters trying to get the wedding planning underway."

"Excuse my language, but it sounds like you're fucked."

Michonne snickered. "I think that's a pretty apt description of my circumstances." She sipped more of her wine. "Settling feels like a prison sentence. What if I'm making a tragic mistake?"

"Why don't you tell him this? Talk it out with him?"

Michonne shook her head. "Mike is a very practical person. He'll think all of this is insane. We care about each other and look good on paper. That's enough for him."

"It may be enough for him, but it's obviously not enough of you. Don't you think you're being unfair to yourself?"

Michonne emitted a soft humph. "My mother always said I put others' needs above my own. God rest her soul." She chuckled with a modicum of disbelief. "I don't know why I'm telling you all of this. I don't usually pour out my soul to strangers."

"I've been told I have kind eyes." Rick lifted his hands in a 'who knows' gesture. "Maybe that's what you're responding to."

"That's it. Must be the eyes." She smiled widely at him, and he felt like he could die happy right at that moment.

"You don't feel like a stranger to me though. It's really easy talking to you," he said.

"Maybe our souls met many times before," she let out a cute giggle and drunk more of her wine. "A girlfriend of mine had a psychic at her birthday party awhile back. The woman told me I had an old soul that has been around for many generations and always had a constant companion. I thought she was full of shit, but she could have been on to something."

"See, I knew I recognized you. You're my kindred partner in crime," Rick joked.

She giggled again. "Such a silly man. You would be a cool guy to travel through generations with. You seem fun. Like you wouldn't mind spending a Saturday in bed watching scary movies and eating popcorn." She looked at him thoughtfully. "Instead of doing your taxes or rearranging the living room furniture." She scrunched up her nose and shook her head.

"Well, I do own every movie in the _Halloween_ series. You're welcome to come over any Saturday morning to watch them." He then shook his head at himself. "I'm sorry that sounded rather presumptuous."

"No, it's okay. I would take you up on that, but I also own all of the _Halloween_ movies. You have to offer me something I don't already have."

"I own much of the _Twilight Zone_ series also so..."

"See now you're speaking my language." Michonne smiled at him again. She couldn't remember a time in recent memory when she laughed and smiled so much in a short period of time.

"Then it's a date," Rick said. Michonne gave him a side-eye look at that. "Well, a friendship date," he amended.

"Okay, then," she said; still amused.

The condensation from the melting ice in Rick's glass had left a small puddle on the table. Michonne used her finger to trace doodles in the water. Rick watched the graceful turns of her finger then raised an eyebrow and lifted the corner of his lips slightly as she finished. "Is that supposed to be me?"

"A crude interpretation. I tried. Didn't have enough water for the beard, but I did make you a kick ass cape." She pointed to the trail of water leading to the edge of the table.

He grinned at her. "My son would appreciate that. He's a comics freak."

Michonne grinned back at him. "Tie aficionado and comic book lover. Sounds like you have a cool kid."

"He's the best. One of the few things I've done right."

She raised an eyebrow at that. "What's with the self deprecation? I'm sure you've done many things right."

Rick scratched the back of his neck. "Doesn't always feel like it. But when your kid calls you the best dad ever because you drove two towns away to buy him a rare comic, then nothing else really matters."

"Which comic book was it? The answer has the potential to solidify you as the world's greatest dad."

"It was _The Adventures of Superman #500 Platinum Edition_."

"Wow, I'm impressed. Looks like you are the world's greatest dad, Rick. That is a great issue to have. I love comic books too. Mike doesn't understand my fascination. Thinks I'm too old for them."

"Well if it makes you happy what's the problem?"

"That's what I say. Besides many of the comic books have some fantastic art work." She shrugged her shoulders. "And that's kinda my thing."

"You're an artist?"

"Part-time, amateur. I'm also a full-time corporate art buyer. What about you?"

"Definitely not an artist. I can barely draw a straight line. I'm a small time Sheriff's Deputy up in King County," he drawled out.

"Ah, that's where the cool, country accent comes from. I can actually see you in your cowboy boots and uniform keeping the streets safe."

"The streets of King County are not exactly running wild with criminals. That most interesting thing I've done in the last few months is catch some kids stealing garbage cans from a few neighborhood houses."

"Well, I'm sure that because those people know not to sully Sheriff Rick's streets."

"You flatter, but no," he chuckled. His finger started to trace the outline of the doodles that were now melting together.

"There goes that self deprecation again." She shook her head at him in mock disappointment. "So tell me how did a small time Sheriff end up at a big Atlanta wedding?"

"Dragged kicking and screaming by Karen. She's from the city."

"How long have you two been together?"

Rick rubbed his beard. "I wouldn't exactly say we were together." Michonne raised an eyebrow at that. "Only been going out a month. Just a few dates. She works as an ADA for the county. Kept coming by the precinct. My partner, Shane, said she was throwing signals that she wanted me to ask her out. So I did, and here we are." He'd been looking towards the pool the whole time. He cut his eyes to her to see she was watching him intently. "She's the first woman I dated since the divorce."

"How are you liking being back in the dating game?"

"Loving every painful second of it."

Michonne laughed. Rick loved the sound of it more and more every time he heard it. "Not big on dating?" she asked.

"I've never dated many women. There were three of them total: Francine Turner. The girl I took to a seventh grade dance. My ex-wife Lori. And now Karen. The whole process of dating multiple people seems exhausting. Hoping to make that connection with someone as you go through so many duds. I rather that special person just pop up in my life unexpectedly."

Michonne played with her engagement ring. "That would be nice, but sounds like a pipe dream. Dating can be so horrible it makes you just stay with the one you're with."

"It worked for Johnny and June," Rick said.

"Johnny Cash and his wife?" She had a amused tinge to her voice.

"That's right. Their love and connection surprised them."

"I don't know much about those two, but wasn't their relationship full of ups and downs?"

"True, but they persevered because they were meant to be."

Michonne clasped her hands together and laid them on the table. "I don't know what's worse. Settling with the wrong person or being in a volatile relationship with your soul mate."

Rick shrugged. "Maybe there's a happy medium. Like I said before, you're minding your own business and just stumble on the one you're supposed to be with. Then you live happily ever after."

"Sounds like the plot of a romantic comedy."

"Isn't art supposed to imitate life?"

"I think it's the other way around. Hollywood doesn't really care about real life." She sighed "I'm probably getting myself worked up over nothing. There's worse things to spending your life with a good guy you care about."

Rick placed his hand lightly over where hers clasped on the table. He waited until she lifted her eyes to his before speaking. "I don't think you're going to be happy married to Mike."

Michonne focused on the contrast of their hands. "How do you know?"

A boldness overtook him as he as he loosened her hands and intertwined their fingers together. "It's all over your face. You don't seem happy."

Michonne untangled their fingers and crossed her arms. "You don't even know me."

Rick moved his chair closer to her; the sound of metal dragging on concrete sounded less loud to Rick than his rapid heartbeat. "But I do know you, remember? Your constant companion?"

She shook her head. "Rick..."

"What?"

"That psychic was a party trick. Not real life." She stood up and walked closer to the pool. "You don't know me," she said again quietly.

Rick stood and walked closer to her without invading her personal space too much. "You felt it too didn't you? Every time our eyes met and every time we touched that recognition was there. It felt like home." He thought he saw a flash of agreement in her eyes, but it left before he could be sure.

She lifted the hand displaying her ring. "I'm engaged, Rick."

"Engaged's not married."

She shook her head again as the tears started in the corner of her eyes. "If I call it off I'll break his heart."

He was in awe that she looked beautiful even with tears running down her cheeks. "And if you don't what will you be, Michonne?"

Michonne looked him in the eye. "Not myself."

"And that would be a tragedy because you're perfect."

Michonne laughed incredulously. "You know this after knowing me an hour?"

"It's been more like an hour and fifteen minutes."

She smiled that genuine smile of hers that sent his heart racing. "You have an answer to every objection."

He stepped closer to her. "I just know what I want."

"What about Karen?"

"I told you we've only been on a few dates. She's a nice woman, but she's not you."

"Do you hate dating that much that you're trying to lock me down after one conversation," she joked.

They way he looked at her with such adoration almost made her palms sweaty and her heart flutter. "If you tell me you don't feel it too I'll turn around and go back to the reception. I'll never bother you again," he said softly.

Michonne started to twist the ring on her finger again. "I...I don't want anybody to get hurt."

"Better to hurt him now then for both of you to be miserable later," he said. "Do you want me to leave?"

Michonne finally slipped the ring off of her finger. "No, Rick. I don't want you to leave."

* * *

The waiter had been working the reception hall for hours. Finally having a moment for a break he opened the patio doors for a quick smoke. He smiled at the couple by the pool who looked like they were the only two people on the earth. He found that weddings always brought out the hopeless romantic in him. He marveled at how the moonlight captured them in a perfect shimmering bubble. The mellow sounds of a soft rock classic drifted over to where the two kindred spirits stood staring into each other's eyes.

_So true funny how it seems_

_Always in time, but never in line for dreams_

_Head over heels when toe to toe_

_This is the sound of my soul_

_This is the sound_

His hand reached out to grip her waist as her hand cupped his cheek. While the music was playing their lips brushed together in a whisper of a kiss. It held promises of the future and relief that tragedy of them never knowing true love was averted.

* * *

**A/N: The song is True by Spandau Ballet**


End file.
